


Giving Up The Fight

by tkbenjamin



Category: NCIS
Genre: Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkbenjamin/pseuds/tkbenjamin
Summary: Gibbs knows something has to give. It's time.





	

Gibbs had been fighting all his life. First his father. Then the bullies at school. The Marine Corps had taken his fight and honed it, trained it, until they had turned it into the ability, knowledge and at times willingness to kill. He had spent his entire life fighting enemies from within and without. 

He’d fought against his emotions for as many years too. First the grief of losing his mother so young, his scars kept well hidden and protected for decades. 

Then the years of happiness brought to him by Shannon and their daughter Kelly. He used to think of them as his halcyon days. Of course a drug dealer and murder had changed all of that. So Gibbs then fought against rage. 

Rage against those that had taken his happiness from him. Taken his future. Rage against himself for not being there when he was needed. Rage against the Corps for keeping him away. That rage had nowhere to lead except eventually to the only type of law enforcement he felt comfortable with. 

He’d joined NIS and fought for justice. Had helped hand out justice in any way they could. Things didn't really change for him when NIS became NCIS. The new alphabet only added a touch more scrutiny and a lot more paperwork. Now he fought the leash and twisted at it until he could do his job again. 

He found comfort in the fight. The fight never left you. Never died. Never let you down. Always demanded everything you had. And went with you everywhere. Then he met someone in Baltimore. And he saw a new fight on his hands. 

Tony DiNozzo made Gibbs want to keep fighting. Only his fight was confused now. He wanted to fight against the man. He wanted to fight for him. He wanted to fight Tony physically and mentally until the younger man went away, and he wanted to fight to keep Tony close. And it never changed. This fight wouldn't leave his system. 

He went as far away from Tony as he could get, mentally, emotionally, physically and had to fight constantly to keep that distance, any distance. But he had kept at least some distance. Tony needed better than him. Deserved more than him. Should have so much more than Jethro could ever give him. 

And Jethro fought again. Fought against the feel of the hands that ran over his leg muscles. The muscles that needed physio and massage so he'd regain full use of his leg again. The bullet had gone right through his thigh muscle, leaving minimal damage but the aftermath could leave Jethro destroyed. 

Tony had moved into his house before Jethro had even been released from the hospital. He'd simply told the doctors that he'd be looking after Jethro as soon as he was released from the hospital and that was that. And weeks into his recovery Tony had done just that. Looked after Jethro. From snacks to drawing baths and changing dressings. Even taking Jethro to his physical therapy sessions. 

So when the therapist had said Jethro needed constant massage, Tony had heard. That night after dinner they sat on sofa just watching the news on Tony's big flat screen that had somehow become a fixture over the fireplace, when Tony pulled out a small bottle of oil from his pockets and looked at Jethro speculatively. 

Seconds later Jethro had been effectively skinned of his sweat pants and had his leg over Tony's where they sat on the sofa. He was bewildered at how this had happened and then startled at the feel of Tony’s hands moving smoothly over his leg. 

“You have to give it over you know. You can't keep fighting like this Jet. Not everyday and not everyone. It's time to stop,” Tony said quietly looking at the TV. 

Gibbs kept his eyes on the screen too. “You want me to stop fighting? Just give up?” he husked out only just then realising there were tears streaming down his face. He angrily used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at his eyes and cheeks before clearing his throat. 

“You give up? Not a chance. I just want you to stop fighting. Stop fighting any chance of happiness. Stop fighting to be miserable. You're not the only one here. Your, fighting the chance to be happy is stealing the same chance away from me. And I deserve to be happy Jet. We've been doing our little dance for years now and I let it go on because I'm as fucked up as you are. But no more dancing around. I need you to surrender to fight. I want you to. And I want you to want me and us more than the fight. I'm pretty sure I'm worth it,” Tony told him in his calm and steady voice. 

Jethro felt hot tears roll down his face again. They weren't stopping. He felt his heart open and anguish flow out of it. He felt his anger burn out and leave him drowned in his tears and finally his grief evaporate because Tony was right. Tony was worth letting go of what he had held onto all his life. Tony was worth more than the fight. 

He reached for the hand still gently massaging his thigh and held it. He turned it over until the palm faced up. “I surrender myself into your hands and into your keeping, Tony,” he said quietly, rubbing the palm with his thumb. 

“My hands are safe Jet. They're strong and ready to hold you. Keep you safe. Always,” Tony smiled softly. 

“I know,” Jethro said and pulled enough for Tony to get the message and climb up and over the older man. 

Jethro sighed happily at the first taste of Tony’s mouth. He knew his fighting days were through. He didn't have to fight himself and the world anymore. He'd surrendered all of that for what he held in his arms. He felt right.


End file.
